My ending to the Marriage Stone
by crookshanks87
Summary: The real Marriage Stone has been on hiatus for over a year now, so I decided to write my own ending. My story starts where the Marriage Stone left off. Slash
1. 78

Authors Notes: I'm a huge fan of the Marriage Stone by Josephine Darcy and have decided since his story is on hiatus I would write my own ending. I'm so in love with these characters. I just had to see how their story played out. This story isn't beta-ed. If you're interested let me know. I mean no disrespect to Josephine, I am merely borrowing some of her plot and characters just as countless others have done to JKR. I know I'm not half the writer Josephine is, but I decided to post this for all the other fans of the Marriage Stone that are desperate for some closure. This story continues where the Marriage Stone left off. Enjoy.

Chapter 78

He was alone; even the ravens had left him. The empty world surrounded him and he surrounded it. Harry had to save them—the souls with nothing to quicken. But even in his desperation, he was starting to admit defeat. Harry had stretched his magic out with the ley lines to the point of exhaustion and beyond. Ignoring the ravens calling him back, he was prepared to bleed himself dry, if that's what it took to save the world once again. He would burn as their king, if only he could save them.

But even that didn't seem to be enough. As he reached out with his magic, the ravens fell behind and Harry could no longer hear them whispering. Harry couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything. He could admit that he was lost, but not defeated. Frantically, aimlessly, he searched for a way to save the lost souls.

And so Harry continued to wander. Time passed. Harry couldn't say how much, though he was acutely aware of each second passing so slowly it felt like a year.

In his mind, the seconds became years and the years became centuries. There was nothing here for him to do, but he had no way to leave. The only thing he could do was continue to search.

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A flicker of something caught Harry's eye. That in itself was strange. Harry couldn't remember seeing anything since the ravens had left him. Rapidly, Harry searched out with his mind to find whatever it was.

And he found it. He couldn't quite explain what it was, other than it appeared to be pure magic. It was strands of gold, silver, blue and every other color wrapped around each other in a rope.

Harry knew he had never seen it before, but it seemed familiar, friendly. He reached out towards it and just as he almost had it, the rope jerked away. Tiredly, Harry wondered if he should follow it. It was an awfully mean rope to tease him like that. So he stayed there, not moving. The rope didn't move either.

Harry cast his mind out searching for anything else. The same as before, there was nothing. At least the rope was something, Harry thought. He moved towards it again. Just like the first time, the rope of magic pulled away. While this was annoying, there was nowhere else to go. The rope might lead to nothing. In which case, Harry would be in the same situation. Perhaps it would lead to something good, and if it led to something bad, Harry would deal with it as he always did.

Harry embraced his Gryfindor nature and began following the rope.

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As Harry followed the rope, he began to notice the landscape seemed to take shape. No longer was he in a sightless, soundless land. Eventfully, his ravens joined him again. They cawed happily (though Harry worried he really was losing it—cawing isn't happy). They urged him on with whispers in his ears. He was going the right direction.

Continuing as fast as he could, he never let the familiar rope out of his site, nor did he rest. Until, finally he saw something new. He was at the end of the rope. Extending from the rope was a pulsating river of red blood. For one horrible second, Harry was sure he had been led into a trap. Then he saw the emerald green globe extending out from the red. He was staring at the Eye of Odin.

Harry had no idea how the Eye of Odin was here; it was destroyed. He had no idea if it was dangerous, but Harry walked forward regardless. He was committed to this course of action; there was nowhere left to go.

Slowly, Harry walked toward the eye. As he got closer to the eye, it began to appear more like a globe than an eye. It was translucent and too perfectly round. Finally, he arrived at the edge and peer in. Harry realized that he was wrong. It wasn't the Eye of Odin; it was his heartstone.

As he looked through the translucent barrier, he could see into the hospital wing. Severus was sitting by his bed. His bed. He was in the hospital wing, at least physically. He had no idea where his mind was at.

A little boggled by the situation, Harry focused back in on the picture. Severus was sitting by his bed, holding his heartstone over Harry's chest. Severus' lips were moving in a whisper and his faced was creased with lines of worry.

"I'm all right. I'm right here," Harry shouted. Severus didn't respond. Abruptly Harry felt foolish; of course Severus couldn't hear him. Severus was alone in the room and Harry wondered where his friends were.

His heart clinched in fear, wondering what horrors had been unleashed on the world that would keep his them from his bed side. He had failed—failed to save the world. How many were dead? All those souls that had nothing to quicken. There were too many to comprehend.

Pressed against the barrier of his heartstone, Harry stood there and stared in horror. But mostly he tried not to think of everybody he had failed to save. He tried to think of a way to get back to his body. If nothing else, Harry was positive it was not normal or healthy to be staring at one's own body.

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"Is there any change?" Sirius asked Severus hopefully.

"Poppy says his vitals have improved," Severus responded.

"I'll sit with him for awhile, if you need a break." Severus just shook his head.

Of all the things Harry could think, he simply wondered why Sirius and Severus were being so nice to each other. Then Harry let out a sigh of relief, as he realized that at least Sirius was still alive. He watched as Sirius sat next to Severus in silence and gently picked up his body's hand.

Sirius exchanged a look with Severus. It stunned Harry. Sirius and Severus were not only sitting next to each other civilly, they were sharing looks of commiseration! They were both suffering because of him. They couldn't stand seeing him like this.

Abruptly, Harry was furious. He was the source of their suffering. Already, he had failed so many people. His bondmate and godfather could not be added to the list of people he had failed. He had to get back to them.

His fist smacked against the globe, sending sparks of pain through his hand, but he didn't care. Desperately, Harry beat against the globe. The globe cracked and shattered. Swiftly, Harry felt himself falling.

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His body ached everywhere. From the tip of his toes to the ends of his unruly hair, he throbbed. But he was alive. He could hear to soft murmuring of Severus's voice, but was unable to make out any words. He could see the red behind his eyelids, but what he wanted to do was see the relieved faces of his bondmate and godfather.

Slowly, Harry willed his eyes open. Never had his eyelids felt so heavy. Perhaps they weren't heavy; they were glued shut. Somehow Harry got his eyes open and bright light white blinded him.

After a few slow blinks the world slowly came into focus. Directly above him, he could see the relieved faces of one Severus Snape and one Sirius Black.

"Thank merlin!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Get Poppy!" Severus ordered. Sirius again surprised Harry by simply rolling his eyes and doing as Snape had demanded.

"Are you alright?" Severus questioned as he began checking vitals. Harry tried to answer, but all that came out was a chocked gurgling noise.

"Of course," Severus said as he reached for something. "You haven't had anything to drink since the attack."

Harry felt cool smooth metal press against his lips as Severus gently lifted Harry's head. He drank as much water as he could.

"How are you?" Severus asked again. Harry just stared back at him uncertain how to answer. His brain seemed to be working slower than normal. Within the past month he had defeated an elder demon, been declared king, and most recently had prevented the apocalypse for all humans.

"Alive," Harry said with a shrug that made his shoulders throb. Alive was a lot more than a lot of people could say. Severus pursed his lips in disapproval of Harry's flippant answer, but before he could say anything else Poppy entered the room with Sirius and Dumbledore.

Harry wanted to ask so many questions, but Pomphery wouldn't let him say anything. She started asking questions, giving potions, casting spells.

Though Harry hadn't done anything but lay in this bed since the attack, he felt very tired and drained. Before Pomphery could finish fussing over him, Harry felt himself slip off into sleep.

AN: Let me know what you think. If you have any ideas where the story should go let me know.


	2. 78B

A/N: This starts out where the Marriage Stone ends from Severus's point of view. Thanks for all the positive response.

WARNING: This story contains slash, meaning a male/male relationship.

Chapter 78b

Snape flew through the halls of Hogwarts as fast as he could without actually running. He had pulled out Harry's heartstone from the inside of his shirt and was desperately griping it. The thought of his heartstone had sent a wild hope surging through Severus. Actually being able to _do_ something sent adrenaline and blood pounding throughout his body.

Snape absently noted the hallways were empty. Normally, when he stalked the hallways, students were jumping out of his way. For once luck was with him in a tiny matter. The empty halls let Severus move faster.

Despite his quick pace, he felt like it took him an eternity to make it to the headmaster's office. Severus growled with impatience as he spit out the password—butter scotch of all things! The gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office moved sluggishly. Did the thing actually move slower when visitors were in a hurry?

Finally, the gargoyle was out of his way. Snape strode up the stairs taking them two at a time. Pounding on the door, a treacherous thought creeped into his head. What if Harry's heartstone couldn't lead him back? Snape forced the thought out of his mind as he pounded harder on the door. He would know soon enough. Pounding on the door a third time, Snape realized the headmaster never took this long to let someone in.

For the first time Snape could remember, the headmaster was not ready to see him as soon as he ascended the stairs. He grabbed the door and hurled it open; he would not wait.

The office was empty. Snape stared in shock, temporarily unable to comprehend why the headmaster would not be in his office.

The events of the past few days abruptly caught up with Snape. While he had been focused on Harry, he had all but forgotten what was going on with the rest of the world.

Feeling foolish, Snape realized that the headmaster was helping with the rescue efforts. There were so many muggles that needed care and so few wizards to give it. Of course the headmaster was helping with them. He wouldn't be twiddling his fingers up in his office while muggles were dying.

Snape sighed and resigned himself to searching the whole castle. He just hoped the headmaster was _in _the castle.

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It took him an agonizing hour, but Snape finally found him. He found the headmaster in the charms classroom, surrounded by squibs and students, being taught how to insert a catheter. Snape shook his head trying to get the images of a catheter out of his mind and was immensely grateful for the conveniences of magic.

He slipped in between the men and women as unobtrusively as was possible—it wasn't very natural for Snape—and made his way over to the headmaster.

At first Dumbledore didn't notice him. He was very intent on the squib instructing the group. What he saw on Dumbledore's face worried him. Dumbledore's eyes were grave and his face was drawn in worry. Snape had never seen Dumbledore like this. Dumbledore should be excited to be learning about new muggle things. But instead he was sitting quietly with slightly hunched shoulders, looking every minute of his age.

Snape was reminded of the only other time Dumbledore had lost hope—when Voldemort had the Eye of Odin. Harry Potter had restored that hope by performing a miracle. And now it seemed the world needed another miracle from the boy.

Snape reached out and tapped Dumbledore on the shoulder. Dumbledore turned with a slight look of surprise on his face. Snape pursed his lips in disapproval. Dumbledore finally started acting like a normal human—just when Snape didn't want him to.

As soon as Dumbledore met his eyes, the twinkle returned in full force. Snape couldn't help but wonder what he looked like. He felt frantic and out of control, that certainly wouldn't inspire hope.

"I need to talk to you," Snape said quietly. He didn't want to disturb the lesson; he knew how important it was that these people learn to care for the sleeping muggles.

Dumbledore nodded. Together they made their way out of the charms classroom, only earning a few curious looks from the people surrounding them.

"What is it, my boy?" Dumbledore asked as soon as the door had shut.

Snape held up his hand still gripping Harry's heartstone. He had never let it go. His knuckles were white and his hand was strained from holding it tightly for so long, but he didn't want to let it go.

"Harry's heartstone. Black said Harry might be able to follow his magic back to his body," Snape trailed off and willed Dumbledore with all his might to believe it might work. For one second Dumbledore appeared confused, but then his face broke out into a smile.

"Brilliant, my boy. Brilliant!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "That just might do it. His heartstone is so powerful… if anybody could follow it back to his core, it would be Harry."

Maybe Harry would pull off yet another of his logic defying miracles.

Dumbledore began walking toward the hospital wing at a speed that was surely not normal for a man Dumbledore's age. Snape let out a sigh of relief--and exasperation--Dumbledore was acting like Dumbledore again. Annoying but reassuring, he supposed. Perhaps he only looked so distraught in the charms classroom because of the catheter. It was a rather disturbing process.

"How exactly will this work?" Snape asked.

"It's really very simple. When people walk on an astral plane, they return to their body by following their magic back to their core." Severus nodded. He already knew this after all.

"Pomfrey believes Harry can't return because he's lost track of his magic. If you and Harry had been bonded, you would have been able to reach out to him and stimulate his magic. In theory, he would have been able to feel that and follow the connection back to you and his body. The heartstone should be able to do the same thing." Dumbledore paused as he opened the door to the hospital wing.

The scene before them was chaos. Squibs, muggles, and injured wizards filled the beds. Pomfrey and dozens of barely trained students scurried about attempting to treat as many people as possible. A couple people looked over at Dumbledore and Snape, but quickly went back to work. They were too exhausted to spare much attention for the living--the living that weren't dying.

The two men started weaving their way through the crowd, making their way towards Harry's bed. Just as they were about to open the curtain around him, Hermione bumped into them. She had been helping Pomfrey.

"Has anything changed?" she asked looking from Snape to Dumbledore.

"Maybe. Come in with us," Dumbledore offered.

Snape shut the curtain around Harry's bed as soon as they had entered and recast a silencing charm to ensure privacy. Sirius was still sitting with Harry. He looked half annoyed that Severus hadn't trusted him to cast a simple silencing charm, but mostly he just looked helplessly hopeful. Wearing your heart on your sleeve must be a requirement for Gryfindors, Severus noted in annoyance.

Hermione looked pitifully exhausted—now hopeful—and run down. She probably hadn't rested since the rescue efforts began. Severus couldn't make himself feel guilty for not helping more with the efforts; he was needed here.

They all pulled up chairs around Harry and sat down. As Dumbledore quickly explained the situation to Hermione and Sirius, Snape studied Harry.

He was perfectly still, face pale, and drawn as though in stress. Snape turned impatiently to Dumbledore. Harry was suffering; their explanation could wait.

Seeing Snape's fierce glare, Dumbledore gave Snape a patient glance.

"And that brings us to this point," Dumbledore began. "Take out the heartstone and hold it over Harry's chest. Its as simple as that. His heartstone in the presence of his body should stimulate a connection between his magic and mind, allowing him to follow his heartstone's magic back to this physical location. Once his mind is drawn back here, it should be able to merge with his body."

Dumbledore sounded calm and hopeful. His eyes sparkled in cliche Dumbledore fashion. Snape couldn't feel calm, but he did feel an anxious hope--in all likely hood a fool's hope. He lifted the heartstone over Harry's chest. His hands were steady, but barely. They all stared intently at Harry, hoping.

Harry inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again. Nothing happened. His eyes remained closed.

Snape felt the crushing despair of defeat. He gripped the chain of the heartstone as hard as he could, turning his knuckles white. His hands began to shake, despite his best effort to keep them still.

"It failed?" Hermione asked the question Severus wouldn't voice. Dumbledore's lips were turned down in a frown, but he didn't look nearly as devastated as Severus felt.

"These things take time. Harry's mind might be very far from here. It could take him some time to follow the connection back. Keep the heartstone there and give Harry time to follow the connection back. There is still hope." Dumbledore said with conviction.

"He _will_ come back," Sirius said with absolute confidence.

_Let the boy pull off another miracle, _Severus wished. He didn't look away from Harry even as Dumbledore spoke.

"Try talking to him. Hearing your voice might help encourage him," Dumbledore suggested.

Snape sneered in self-deprecating anger. What a pathetically Gryfindor idea! He was hardly the kind of man that believed coma patients could hear anything around them. Surely his voice wouldn't encourage Harry to come speeding back. He almost laughed at the idea.

But perhaps hope was a contagious disease the Gryfindor's had infected him with. He wanted to believe Dumbledore was right--there was hope. He barely noticed as Dumbledore persuaded Hermione and Sirius to leave with him, so they could continue the rescue efforts--a band aid on a gaping wound.

"Come back, Harry," Snape whispered. He winced at the raw emotion he heard in his voice, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. No one was here to hear his weakness. And if Harry could hear, maybe he would take pity on him and return.

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Severus wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually Sirius and Remus came to check on Harry. Hermione and Sirius had spread the news about Harry's heartstone. Everyone was hoping. Hoping. Hoping. The three men stared at Harry, each one voicing encouragement to Harry. Hours passed.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Nothing changed. Harry lay on the bed pale and still; the three men continued to stare and whisper desperately.

Eventually Remus left, only to return shortly with food for the three of them. Whatever food he put in his mouth tasted like ash, but he ate it. He needed to stay strong for Harry. Severus noted, for once, the mutt's appetite seemed to be tame as well.

Eventually Sirius urged Severus to let him take over, so he could get some sleep. Grudgingly he handed the heartstone over to Sirius. Running himself to the point of exhaustion wouldn't help Harry, but it was painful for him to let go of the stone. It was a piece of Harry. He could feel Harry's electric wild magic in it. He didn't want to let go of it.

Sirius gave him a look of understanding as Severus let out an involuntary sigh when the heartstone had been transferred to him. Snape tried to sneer back at him. He wasn't sure why, but Sirius's understanding made him angry.

Sirius did not seem impressed by Snape's sneer.

Snape transfigured his chair into a cot and laid back on it. Though it was uncomfortable, it didn't take him long to fall asleep. One last conscious thought floated through his mind—he was addicted to the feel of Harry's magic. The magic from the heartstone wasn't enough. He wanted to feel the magic from Harry's skin, not from a rock.

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Snape woke up early the next morning to see Pomfrey checking on Harry. Sirius was curled up sleeping on the bed next to Harry in his dog form. Alarmed, Severus searched for Harry's heartstone. It was right above his chest. Ron Weasley was holding it. Severus sighed in relief and annoyance. Sirius should have woken him up, when he wanted to sleep.

Severus grabbed the heartstone out of Ron's hand without a word.

"I am capable of holding a heartstone," Ron bit out in annoyance.

"I'm aware," Severus said levelly to him. Severus turned to Pomfrey.

"How is he?" he asked her.

"No change," she said with a shake of her head. Severus could see she didn't look hopeful. She bit her lip as though uncertain how to best continue.

"Well almost no change," Pomfrey added. "It does appear that his levels of adrenalin have spiked and lowered slightly."

"That's good! Right?" Ron demanded. Severus could easily see in Pomfrey's face that she did not think it was good.

"Not exactly. It means that his body's in less fear—" Pomfrey gave Ron a stern glare before he could interrupt.

"Less fear could be caused for two reasons. The first, and less likely I believe, is that his mind has become more aware and that he knows what's going on. However, if that was the case, he probably would have woken up by now." She pursued her lips together and sighed before continuing.

"The second reason is that he's become more disassociated from his body. His mind and body are so disconnected that the fear he feels is no longer provoking a response in his body." With that Pomfrey left to go check on other patients.

Ron's face dropped and stiffened in pain.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Nothing changed.

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Sirius took over late that night letting Severus sleep after Lupin had brought him dinner again. Ron took over early in the morning. Hermione stopped by to see Ron and Harry in the morning, looking exhausted. She was working herself ragged trying to save the muggles, then again so was everyone. It had been days since the attack. No one had discovered a way to wake the Muggles. The Muggles were starting to dehydrate--many had already died. The only ones that would live were the ones that had been taken in by the wizards.

Severus couldn't bring himself to care about that, or anything, but Harry. And if--when--Harry woke, how devastated would he be? A whole world of people he had failed to save. Undoubtedly he would blame himself.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Nothing changed.

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Later that afternoon Sirius came to sit with him again, presumably to take over later so Severus could eat lunch.

It irked him. It grated on his nervous. Black wasn't supposed to pity him; Black was supposed to despise him. Snape wasn't the sort of man that needed or appreciated pity, but he got it now. His whole world had been turned upside down. Black was supposed to despise him. The two of them shouldn't be sitting together in companionable silence. They should be throwing insults, snarling, or on the verge of violence.

But nothing much was the way it was supposed to be in the world now. Most of all Harry. Harry was supposed to be full of life—face flushed with passion and eyes flashing with emotion. He was not supposed to be pale and still, lying in a hospital bed. But he was and that was why Black pitied him. Black's pity was a declaration of what they both feared. It was too late. Harry was never waking up.

Snape felt his shoulders hunch involuntarily. Perhaps it was some long forgotten reflex as his body unconsciously tried to reduce the pain raging inside him.

It was Friday. Snape had never been so aware of the day of the week. Tonight was the night Harry had agreed to go on a date with him. Though it had only been four days since the date had been set, Snape felt as though it had been a life time. In those four days the world had morphed into something Snape barely recognized.

The world had no hope without Harry. As the true king, only Harry could save it. And Snape had no use for the world without Harry.

He didn't care that every time Poppy walked into the room she had a sad look of resignation in her eyes. He didn't care that he had been holding this heartstone over Harry's chest for over two days now. Most of all, he didn't care that so many others were beginning to think it was too late. He was not giving up. He was always a stubborn man by nature, and now was no time to change that. He would not give up on Harry.

At least he wasn't alone. Black would not give up either. Sighing, he glanced up at the man beside him. Black met his glaze. He saw the pain he felt reflected in Black's eyes. He couldn't stand to see it and looked down. Like so many other things, it reminded him of Harry. Why a single Gryfindor couldn't keep their emotions off their face was beyond him. Surely it wasn't that hard!

Snape focused back on Harry.

"Come back to your body Harry," Snape whispered. It had to have been the millionth time he said it and he would say it a million more times if that's what it took to get Harry back to him. He would not give up.

"Come back to us."

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Severus was hungry. He hadn't eaten since Lupin had brought him dinner the night before, but he didn't want to hand the heartstone over to Sirius. He felt tense, like a caged animal. Every second dragged on. Every second felt like the climax of a story. With every breathe Harry took, Severus expected him to wake up or die. Harry couldn't continue this way--half way between life and death. This was going to end one way or another and the ending was coming soon--he could feel it.

"Wake up Harry," Severus commanded quietly. He didn't even care that his voice broke. Sirius's eye didn't flicker in acknowledgment of his weakness. He had heard it before in his own voice and in Black's.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Gasp.

Severus and Sirius both shot to their feet and peered over Harry. This was it. Harry would live or die. Severus could barely breathe, but he managed to bark out—

" Get Pomfrey!" Black didn't move. He simply gripped Harry's hand harder. Neither man was willing to leave Harry's side.

Severus could see Harry's eyes start to flicker. That had to be a good sign. His breathing wasn't steady—a bad indication!

Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry's eyes began to open. Severus sucked in a deep breath in relief.

"Thank Merlin!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Get Poppy!" Severus ordered. Sirius dashed away.

"Are you alright?" Severus had to know. Had Harry pulled off another miracle? He looked so pale, lifeless, but his eyes were clear and alert.

Harry made a rasping noise. Severus stared in panic for a second. No! Harry couldn't be taken from him now.

Then the logically side of Snape asserted itself. The boy had been in a comma for the past three and half days.

"Of course," Severus sighed in relief "You haven't had anything to drink since the attack." He quickly helped Harry drink some water.

Wryly he thought to himself, Gryfindor-ness does rub off on people. He couldn't ever remember letting his emotions so badly mar his thought process.

But he had to know—was Harry alright?

"How are you?" Severus demanded the information. His eyes flickered around in annoyance. What was taking Pomfrey so long? Harry needed medical attention, not questions from a worried bondmate.

"Alive," Harry said with a shrug in a weak voice.

Severus almost growled in frustration—that barely told him anything, but before he could say anything Pomfrey entered the room with Black.

Harry started to ask a question, but Pomfrey sternly cut him off. He needed to rest and Pomfrey needed to run tests to make sure he was alright.

Severus sat down in exhausted relief. Harry could talk; he could respond. The experience hadn't driven him from his body permanently. Harry hadn't been driven insane. Everything was going to be alright. He would hold on to that foolish Gryfindor hope.

Harry still looked pale and he had a haunted look in his eyes that Severus had seen before, but he looked alive. Severus reached out and gently touched Harry's hand. Under the heat of Harry's hand, he could feel magic buzzing like electricity under his skin. For the first time in what felt like forever, Severus felt happy.

Pomfrey looked happy as well.

"Well, you're magically exhausted. But that appears to be the extent of the damage." She shook her head in disbelief.

"You'll need bed rest for at least the next three days, but you should make a full recovery, assuming you can get some rest," she admonished.

Pomfrey coaxed him to swallow a potion, then another, and a last. Snape recognized them as a variety of restorative potions.

Just after Harry got the last potion, his eyes began dropping.

"Let me know if there's any change. And let him get some sleep," she gave a pointed looked at Sirius who was barely restraining himself from jumping up and down, "He's exhausted and needs to rest. Right now!"

After Snape nodded, she rushed off to help with the muggles. There was too much work to do and not enough people to do it.

Harry's eyes closed immediately and he fell into a natural, restful, sleep. He must be exhausted like everybody else.

Severus's attention was drawn away from Harry by Sirius. Sirius finally gave in and began jumping up and down in silent excitement, unable to contain his joy and relief. Severus felt so numb with relief, unable to move; he was paralyzed.

Black lung at him suddenly. Before he could move, he realized Sirius was hugging him.

Severus was a little horrified, but unable to respond. He simply stood there and gazed over at Harry.

"He's going to live," Sirius whispered in his face, while grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. Severus finally managed to draw his eyes back away from Harry and nod.

"Thank Merlin," he forced through his teeth. Black better not insist on hugging him again. Yes, they had gone through an ordeal together, but that did not make them friends.

Severus shook his head as though trying to shake out the overwhelming emotions he felt, so he could think. He sat down by Harry's bed and held his hand. It was warm and soft and perfect. He didn't care if Black saw. Harry was his bondmate. He'd be damned if anyone complained about some hand-holding.

Black annoyed him further by giving him another understanding look, but what he said afterwards made up for it.

"I'll leave the two of you alone and spread the news. Dumbledore will want to know." Severus watched the man leave. The man was nearly skipping as he left.

He sat there staring at Harry a long time. He wasn't sure how he felt. He simply knew he felt as though his life had been given back to him.

For the first time in days, he contemplated Harry's and his future. The future looked bleak and empty without Harry. He would fight tooth and nail to keep Harry by his side. He just had to manage to find a way to keep Harry alive and happy with him. He couldn't bear to make Harry unhappy. Certainly, he couldn't bear it if Harry died.

He knew Harry had feelings for him. His reaction to Andre was proof enough of that. He knew Harry reacted positively enough when he had kissed him. What did it all mean?

Severus sighed. He didn't know what the future for them held. He merely knew he had to try. And today was Friday. He had promised Harry a date. It was a bad time for a date; Harry couldn't even leave the hospital wing. The world was in shambles for goodness sakes!

But Harry's life would always be chaotic and he wasn't going to wait for a peaceful time to try and win Harry over. Who knew how long the war would last? Despite everything, he was going to go on a date with Harry tonight. Even if it meant Severus ate beside Harry's bed while he slept. He wouldn't put their relationship on hold another minute.

He didn't know how, but he was going to attempt to romance and woo a Gryfindor tonight.

A/N: So next chapter the boys finally go on their date! And yes Severus was very moody in this chapter, but hey he's worried sick about Harry. He's entitled to go a little crazy.


	3. 79

AN: This chapter was beta-ed by Celeste whom I give a million thanks. Enjoy.

Chapter 79

His whole body ached. It felt as though every muscle in his body had been pushed beyond the limits of endurance. Even his eyelids, Harry noted, as he opened them. His surroundings quickly came into focus. Unsurprisingly, he was in a hospital bed, surrounded by a curtain. Ever so slowly, he turned his head to the side, searching for somebody sitting by his bed. Normally people started talking at him the second his eyes were open.

Harry's gaze finally reached Severus. He had fallen asleep sitting by Harry's bed. Severus couldn't be comfortable, Harry realized. The chair holding Severus was made from stiff wood and Severus had slouched down in the chair with his neck arching off to the side, head lolling, unsupported.

Harry stared at him, taking in the details of his face. He knew he should wake Severus; the crick in his neck would be horrible. Severus would want to talk to him and Harry had plenty of questions himself, but Harry couldn't find the words or strength to wake him. Instead, he just stared.

Black hair fell across half of his face, contrasting with the white of his skin. His lips were gently parted and Harry could see them move slightly each time Severus exhaled. It was very peaceful watching him.

Peaceful.

Harry's stomach churned violently as the events of the past days resurfaced in his mind. He had failed; he didn't want to think about that, about the dying muggles, about Voldemort's victory. Voldemort's failure. How many had died? How many had survived? Why hadn't he seen Ron or Hermione? He needed to know.

Harry tried to lift his arm to reach out to Severus and failed. He couldn't remember feeling so weak; not even when he had stolen the Eye of Odin. It was like every last drop of magic had bled from his body.

"Severus," Harry whispered gently. Only after repeating himself several times did Severus respond. Severus's head whipped up with eyes wide, immediately seeking out Harry. Just as quickly, he reached up and touched his neck wincing. A look of relief crossed his face as he met Harry's gaze.

"How are you feeling?" Severus asked in a voice rough with sleep.

"I'm fine—just exhausted," Harry said simply.

"You have magical exhaustion. Pomfrey's ordered at least a couple weeks of bed rest and absolutely no magic," Severus explained. Harry nodded, then winched as his muscles revolted against the movement. Harry was slightly startled as Severus reached up and placed his hand on Harry's forehead checking his temperature.

He pondered the implications of bed rest and no magic. It meant he wouldn't be able to help with any rescue efforts that were ongoing. He wouldn't be able help fight if Voldemort attacked. He would be relatively useless for the next couple of weeks. Pushing thoughts of the future and what-ifs out of his mind, he focused on the present. He had woken Severus up for a reason after all.

"Are Ron and Hermione. . ." Harry trailed off biting his lip nervously.

"They're fine. They weren't hurt," Severus answered curtly. Harry sighed, as relief coursed through his body.

"Where are they?" he wondered. They normally tried to sit with him as much as possible when he was injured.

"Probably eating dinner," Severus answered just as he finished checking Harry's pulse. "Would you like anything to drink or eat?"

Harry didn't feel particularly hungry, but supposed he should eat to help keep his strength up.

"Sure."

Harry was unsurprised when Dobby answered Snape's summons. Dobby was almost crying in relief to see that Harry was alive and awake; yet at the same time, he was jumping in an exuberant dance of joy. Snape asked for food and sent Dobby off before he could bombard Harry with his sentiments.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say. As he looked up at Snape, he saw on Severus's face that he didn't know what to say either. Harry desperately wanted to know what had happened—who had survived, who hadn't—but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the world.

He didn't want to know how badly he had failed everyone. He moved his arm upwards a centimeter and let it fall back down. It was agony. He could barely move. He was more helpless than a first year. Snape continued to stare at him in silence with a thoughtful—almost anxious—expression on his face.

Not caring if it was cowardice, Harry decided he didn't want to know. Not now. He couldn't help anybody in this state. It wouldn't matter if he didn't find out the events of the past couple days for a little while.

He could take a single night off and rest in his hospital bed without worrying about the rest of the world. Maybe it was selfish. He didn't care! He would face the rest of the world tomorrow. This made him wonder—when was it?

"What day is it?" Harry asked.

"Friday," Snape answered.

"Oh." Harry looked down. Date night.

As silly as it felt, Harry couldn't bring himself to care that he'd been unconscious for over three days. He knew he should care, but the only thing he could think about was Severus and him were supposed to go on a date tonight.

Feeling ashamed—and again somewhat selfish—Harry admitted to himself, despite the fact that world was in upheaval, he still wanted his date. Couldn't he have one thing in his life that was normal?

He sighed in disappointment, realizing their date would have to be delayed. He couldn't even get out of bed! Flushing slightly, he realized some people might enjoy spending entire dates in a bed.

Dobby retuned with their food.

"Dobby is bringing Master Harry and Master Snape their food," Dobby said proudly. Harry was surprised to see the food for Severus. Nobody ever ate with him in the hospital wing.

"Thank you, that will be all," Severus said dismissing Dobby. With a pop, Dobby left the two men alone.

Snape sat down on Harry's bed beside him. Harry's heart pounded. He was intensely aware of Severus's proximity in bed next to him. Harry wasn't sure why he was reacting so strongly; they slept in bed together every night. Perhaps it was his previous thoughts about bedridden date activities.

And then, Severus leaned forward, so the two of them were chest to chest. Harry froze, uncomprehending. Severus gently slid his arms behind Harry's back and lifted him up into a sitting position.

Severus was helping him sit up, so he could eat. Harry exhaled, whether it was in relief or disappointment, he wasn't sure—perhaps it was a bit of both. Whatever Severus's intentions, Harry had to admit it felt nice to be held like this—almost a hug, with strong arms around him, and the heat of another body soaking into his chest.

And then Severus moved several pillows behind Harry's back, gently rested Harry back into them, and let him go. Harry wasn't entirely happy Severus had let him go. It had felt nice—comforting.

As Severus set their food up to eat, Harry wondered how it was possible this man was the same man that had reduced dozens of students to tears in front of Harry. It seemed impossible to Harry that the Severus that treated him so carefully could be the same professor Snape that cruelly ridiculed students.

But he was—and Harry couldn't help but wonder why a man who had no patience for children, who was talented enough to get a dozen other jobs, who was rich enough not to need a job, worked as a teacher.

It was probably for Dumbledore and the Order anyway. Harry decided not to ask. There was so much he didn't know about the man.

Severus sat down in the chair next to Harry's bed and began eating his food. Looking down, Harry saw his plate was filled with soup and bread—sick people food. Even if he was hungry, he doubted he'd find this appetizing. Then again, he felt lucky to have the food. It wasn't so long ago that he was locked up and left unfed when he was ill.

Slowly, Harry began to eat. And it was slowly, his sore muscles insured that, but as he ate—and moved his arms from his plate to his mouth—his muscles began to loosen up and relax. He was embarrassed to note that his hands were shaking slightly from the effort.

Finally, Severus broke the silence.

"My apologies. I believe I'll have to break plans. I won't be able to take you out on a date tonight." Harry wasn't entirely sure, but Severus almost seemed nervous as he spoke—oddly formal. How strange.

"Perhaps we can have our date here?" Severus suggested with a raised eyebrow. Harry's heart leapt in excitement—maybe he could have one normal night after all. Well, going on a date wasn't normal for him, but it was something normal people did and it seemed Severus wanted the same thing he did.

"I think that'll work," Harry said with a smile.

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Severus felt himself relax. Harry hadn't rejected him outright. Snape wasn't ashamed to admit he'd been worried Harry would object to the timing. He'd spent the afternoon sitting by Harry's bed trying to figure out something they could do that would be date-like with Harry in a hospital bed.

Snape wasn't impressed with any of his ideas and doubted Harry would be either. Chess, exploding snaps, checkers—they were hardly brilliant. Being limited to the hospital wing certainly restricted the date potential.

But honestly, Snape couldn't kid himself; it didn't matter where they could go. He simply wasn't a romantic person. The idea of Severus Snape planning a romantic date was about as good of an idea as Lucius Malfoy planning a muggleborn pride parade—utterly ludicrous.

Eventually Snape settled on the idea that he would eat dinner with Harry—if Harry didn't sleep through the night—and just try to talk with him. Couples did that for dates. Sure, they normally went to fancy restaurants, but that wasn't exactly an option.

Now that both he and Harry were awake, he wasn't quite sure what to say.

He didn't want to bring up the disasters of the past couple days. He wanted to see Harry enjoy himself. Harry deserved a night just for himself. He gave so much to the world and got so little back in return. Severus just wanted to give him one night where he didn't have to worry about the world collapsing around him. A night that Harry could relax. Rest and relaxation would do wonders for Harry's mental state.

Severus had worried Harry would want to hear the story of the past days right away and he would spend the night brooding over the past. But after discovering Ron and Hermione were well, Harry didn't seem interested in learning the rest of the horror story. Severus watched carefully for any signs of mental distress on Harry's part, but he was very composed—if not a little quiet.

And so, Severus had brought up their date. It seemed Harry wanted a night for the two of them as well. Maybe Harry realized he needed to rest. For once, things were working out for Severus. He was getting his date with Harry!

Now he just had to make some kind of conversation with Harry that a couple would have while out on a date. Maybe he should have brought a chess board.

"How's your dinner?" Snape asked. Making small talk was not his specialty. Harry gave him a strange look before answering. Apparently Harry thought he was acting out of character.

"It's good. And yours?" Harry said in a voice as normally as possible. The look of confusion on Harry's face read loud and clear to Snape that this approach wasn't working. It was making Harry uncomfortable.

"Good," Snape replied stiffly. He sighed and decided on another tactic.

"You don't want to talk about the war, do you?" he asked Harry for confirmation. Harry nodded with a dark look in his eyes.

"I'm rather new at this whole . . . romancing business. But couples do normally try to get to know each other better. Is there anything you've wanted to know about me? I know there's plenty I could ask you," Snape suggested.

This was strange for him. He used to be confidant, in control, in the know—not awkward and lost, struggling for words. But it seemed his plan had worked. Harry smiled and Snape could see the curious gleam in Harry's eyes. At least Harry was inexperienced in this dating business as well.

"Why do you teach here at Hogwarts?" Harry asked quickly, but quietly. Snape was surprised by the question, but was pleased Harry thought about him enough to be curious. At least it wasn't too intrusive a question, but then again that was the point—to get to know each other intimately.

"After the first war with Voldemort ended, I was branded as a Death Eater, not officially, but it's what the general public widely believed. Dumbledore was the only one that would hire me," Snape answered smoothly.

Harry bit his lip, mulling Snape's answer over and Snape couldn't help but admire Harry. He was utterly handsome. How someone like him had managed to marry such a man was beyond him.

Just as Harry stopped biting his lips, he licked them before taking another bite of his dinner. He couldn't help but notice the soft pink texture of Harry's tongue. He wanted to kiss Harry—soothe those lips with his own tongue.

"But why work? You have plenty of money." Harry startled Snape out of his lusting.

"I'm not the kind of person that likes being idle. I enjoy being productive, having a career, a purpose and while teaching would not be my first choice, up until recently it's been my only choice," Snape explained calmly.

He did still feel bitter about the situation, but given the current state of the world, he simply felt grateful to have Harry alive and with him. He only felt a mere twinge of the anger towards the situation he once did.

Snape watched as Harry slowly lifted food up to his mouth. It was almost painful to watch—Harry must be so tired. Momentarily, he pondered hand feeding Harry. If only he'd asked Dobby to bring fruits and chocolate instead of soup and bread. . .

Snape mentally chastised himself. Romancing Harry was not about getting Harry into bed with him, it was about forming an emotional connection between the two of them. Besides which, Harry was in no condition for physical activity of any kind. He shouldn't even kiss the boy; they could get carried away. When Pomfrey specified bed rest, she certainly didn't mean Harry could be active in the bed!

It didn't matter how much he wanted the boy; he couldn't touch him—at least not until he recovered a bit more. Tonight was about a romantic relationship, not satisfying his baser needs. Not to mention, he still didn't know what effect his Dark Mark could potentially have on Harry—how infuriating!

Snape returned his attention to Harry. It didn't matter he wanted to kiss him—it didn't even matter that the boy would probably let him—welcome it even. Harry was sick. He focused on their conversation.

The two continued asking and answering questions as they both ate. It was amazing how much a person could not know about another person they had been living with for over six months. They continued in that manner until Harry informed Snape he was done eating.

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Harry had enjoyed learning more about Severus—asking questions he had always wondered about, but felt were off limits.

And at first he had felt self-conscious as Severus asked about him. There were very few people he knew that took such a personal interest in him—not counting reporters. But Severus had seemed interested—as though everything he said was of vital importance.

He even acted interested when Harry talked about why he liked playing seeker more than any other Quidditch position. The attention was almost unnerving as Severus stared into Harry's eyes. Several times he felt himself blushing under Severus's intense looks.

He actually managed to keep his mind off Voldemort the majority of the time. Although occasionally his thoughts would stray away from the conversation and go back to that searing kiss Severus had given him right before he had asked him out on this date.

It had started out so intense—overwhelming as Severus was out of control. But once he slowed down, it was incredible. Better than he could possibly explain. He wanted to feel that way again.

And Harry realized, for once, he was thinking like a normal 16-year old. He couldn't stop thinking about sex. He wasn't ready to do the deed yet, but he was ready for another kiss like the last one he and Snape had.

Harry didn't care if there were more important things to be doing, if there were more important things to be thinking—he wanted to kiss Severus again. He wanted to forget the rest of the world existed, get lost in sensation, feel that tingle going up and down his spine.

While he could now move his arms without pain shooting through his body, he certainly couldn't reach Severus sitting in a chair beside his bed and kiss him. He was too far away! Besides which, despite his Gryffindor status, initiating a kiss with Severus certainly seemed intimidating to him.

He suddenly understood why so many boys in Gryffindor tower had strategy discussions on how to move in for a kiss. It was much harder—and awkward—in practice than in theory. At least he knew Severus was attracted to him. It wasn't likely he'd be rejected. But why wasn't Severus initiating a kiss on his own? That's what dating is about.

Harry felt wave of admiration for Severus. Thus far, Severus had initiated all of their kisses. While Severus hadn't seemed nervous, it certainly must have taken some courage on his part. Severus hadn't even known if Harry wanted to kiss him back.

Maybe he was just over thinking this, Harry reasoned. Severus acted fast; he couldn't have planned and thought out those kisses. But Slytherins sure did like to think . . .

Perhaps Severus wasn't kissing him now because he thought Harry was too sick. But if that was the case Harry would just have to initiate it. His stomach clenched in fear—but he wanted a kiss!

Harry would just have to do it—but how? His muscles were too sore for him to lean over the edge of the bed and reach Severus. Maybe he could ask? Harry flushed—maybe he could succeed in topping the 'Are you having sex?' comment! He couldn't even picture himself saying the words, and just imagining Severus's response made him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable.

Severus spoke, jolting Harry out of his thoughts.

"Are you sure you're done eating?" Snape said eyeing Harry's half eaten bowl of soup and untouched bread. Harry looked at his plate and nodded. The soup had been better than it looked. He just wasn't very hungry.

"Definitely." Snape summoned Dobby to take their plates away. Dobby popped in, took their plates, and disappeared with a snap.

Well, it was now or never, Harry reasoned. He wanted his date tonight and he wanted his kiss. If he couldn't move in himself, he would just have to let Severus know what he wanted.

Harry decided he would try a more subtle approach at getting his message across than flat out asking. Snape was intelligent; he would figure it out, and if he didn't, Harry would ask.

Ignoring the fluttering feeling in his stomach, he concentrated on what he wanted—another searing kiss. Harry lifted his hand up—it was less and less tiresome every time—and moved it over toward Severus's thigh. Exhaling, he rested his hand on Severus's knee.

He looked up. Severus met his eyes, staring at him in surprise—lips parted in shock, eyes widened. Immediately, Harry blushed and looked down. By Merlin—what was he doing!

Harry opened his mouth to say something—he wasn't sure what —anything to explain his actions, but before he could say anything, he could feel Severus stand up from his chair and sit down beside him on his bed.

Harry's heart was pounding wildly with excitement, anticipation, and a small amount of nervousness. Raising his gaze, he found Severus staring at him with an indiscernible—yet intense—look on his face.

Severus maintained eye contact with Harry as he slowly lowered his face to Harry's, watching his response. Harry spared a thought to wonder if the human heart could actually explode from pumping too fast—and then Severus's lips were on his.

Severus's lips moved gently, but firmly, against his. It felt even better than he remembered. Almost desperately, Harry moved his lips back against Severus's. He wanted more and he got it.

It felt like a jolt of electricity through his body as he felt Snape's tongue flick against his lips. Harry gasped in response and Snape used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, plunging his tongue in Harry's mouth.

Severus ran his hands through Harry's hair and down his neck, letting them settle on Harry's shoulders. Still Harry wanted more. Harry reached out, ignoring the ache in his arms, and placed his hands on Severus's hips trying to pull him forward.

Severus responded more swiftly and completely than Harry possibly would have imagined. Without breaking the kiss, Severus swung his legs over the bed and straddled Harry. He couldn't help but moan in surprised pleasure.

Harry could feel the heat and weight of Severus's chest against his, Severus's thighs positioned around him, his arms pinning down Harry's arms, his tongue moving frantically in Harry's mouth. Severus's cock pressed into his stomach. And then Severus's shifted his weight, grinding into Harry's hips.

It felt like his whole body had been set on fire—it was perfect!—it was bliss! He couldn't get enough of it. He couldn't even think.

It was incredible—sensational!

And suddenly overwhelming. Severus was frantic—out of control. He needed to slow down—he wasn't ready to go all the way! He wanted Severus to kiss him slowly, sensually—not desperately.

He certainly didn't want to stop. Harry would just ask Severus to slow down—but he didn't have a chance.

Harry and Severus were so distracted with each other that neither noticed as Sirius and Remus pulled the curtain open around Harry's bed. Neither of them noticed as Sirius stared in shock, barely able to restrain himself from bodily throwing Snape off Harry. Nobody noticed as Remus frantically shut the curtain and strengthen the silencing charm around Harry's bed.

No, Harry did not have a chance to ask Severus anything. Sirius Black, on the other hand, demanded quite forcefully—

"Get off my godson!" Sirius bit out each word loudly, voice colored with rage.

Harry froze in complete panic. He was embarrassed, mortified, humiliated. Sirius—of all people—caught him snogging Snape.

Severus had the opposite reaction. Instead of freezing, he flew. He flung himself off Harry, sprang to his feet facing Sirius, quite prepared to be hexed and hex in return.

And then time seemed to still with Harry lying in bed, closing his eyes, trying to pretend this wasn't happening. Severus stood prepared to defend himself. Sirius was staring in rage; Remus was waiting to prevent a fight.

Sirius surprised them all again. He didn't even mention Snape snogging his 16-year old—innocent—godson. He had come to deliver a message.

"Dumbledore needs to see you in his office. Right now," Sirius ground out between his teeth. Harry opened his eyes in surprise and nearly shut them again to block out Sirius's expression of fury.

He wasn't mentioning their kissing, but he was mad!

"Why?" Severus replied as levelly as he could.

"Don't know. Said it was an emergency. I'll stay with Harry. Remus can go with you."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Remus spoke up cutting him off.

"No, I'll stay with Harry. You and Severus go see Dumbledore together," Remus said firmly, giving Sirius a stern stare. It looked as though Sirius was about to protest as well, but stopped himself.

"Fine."

Severus sighed and looked between the two men and Harry. He clearly did not want to leave with Black.

"Sirius," Harry began. "Please behave yourself." Harry looked into Sirius's eyes and mentally pleaded with him not to start a fight with Severus. "Dumbledore needs you both."

Sirius's face softened as he looked into Harry's eyes, seeming to understand. Sirius nodded slightly.

"Let's go," he said in exasperation to Snape. Sirius turned to go, but Snape turned to Remus.

"Harry needs to rest. Make sure he gets some sleep," Snape ordered to Remus. Remus nodded patiently.

"Of course."

Sirius looked as though he was about to explode at Snape's comment, but managed to restrain himself.

"After you," Snape said with mocking courtesy to Sirius. Sirius glared back angrily. They both slipped through the curtain stiffly and disappeared from Harry's sight. Why in the world Remus wanted Snape to go with Sirius was beyond Harry.

"Why'd you send Sirius with Severus? They'll kill each other!" Harry asked Remus tensely. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure. Dumbledore just said that he needed to speak with Snape immediately," Remus began in a calm tone. "And Sirius and Severus won't kill each other."

Harry snorted in disbelief.

"They had a. . . kind of reconciliation while you were unconscious," Remus said in a soothing tone.

"Sirius was furious," Harry stated. "And you know him and Severus. . ."

"—Sirius will control himself. You'll see. Besides if Sirius hadn't gone with Severus, he'd be here with you, asking you what the two of you were doing."

Harry blushed furiously remembering exactly the position they had been caught in. His pajama bottoms did very little to hide how aroused he had been.

"More than that," Remus continued. "Severus would be worrying about what Sirius was saying to you. Dumbledore needs Severus's full attention. Severus will be able to handle Sirius," he finished firmly.

Harry sighed, knowing it was true and hoping that they wouldn't fight too much. At the very least there wouldn't be any permanent damage.

Now that they had that sorted out, he began to feel the full weight of the situation. He glanced up at Remus and blushed furiously. Remus gave him an understanding look and smiled.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," Remus assured Harry.

"Thanks," Harry replied quickly.

"But if you do. . .or if you just have any questions I'm here," Remus added. Harry looked down, nodding, but remained silent.

Harry remembered the question he had wanted to ask Remus after him and Sirius finally got together. He had wanted to know how _it _had been. The idea of asking a father figure was way too embarrassing to even think about. He'd find out some other way and he'd certainly had enough embarrassment for one night.

Harry frowned in disappointment as he realized his date had been cut short—probably due to some Dark Lord emergency. He sighed. How utterly typical of his life. He should just accept it; he wasn't going to get to take a night off from Voldemort and just forget about him for one night.

He might as well face the music now. He'd find out sooner or later anyways. Harry turned to Remus, pushing aside thoughts of Severus, and asked what he had missed in the past days.

AN: This was my first ever attempt at writing romance. Hopefully you liked it. The next chapter will probably be out in a week or two.


	4. 80

Harry concentrated on pushing all thoughts of Severus and Sirius out of his head and focused on what he needed to know. The reality scared him, but that was what Gryfindor courage was for. He'd just have to jump right in.

"What's going on with the muggles. . . I remember calling for everyone to wake up. The wizards woke up, but the muggles. . .?" Harry forced the question out, afraid of the answer.

His fear only increased as Remus paled and glanced away in response to the question.

"Didn't Severus tell you. . ." Remus asked trailing off uncertainly.

Harry looked down and flushed. The bed sheets covering his lap were wrinkled and messy. Evidence that Snape and him had indeed not been focused on world events. He had just been caught snogging Snape and now, somehow, had to explain how the two of them had failed to talk about anything relevant.

"I just. . . after waking up," Harry broke off, uncertain how to continue.

How could he explain to Remus how selfish he had been? How cowardly? Harry knew he had failed; he hadn't woken the Muggles. He had been scared to face his failure--the magnitude of it was surely staggering. And so, utterly selfishly, he had decided not to face it. He had just wanted one night to gather his strength before he had to face the world.

"Did Severus say anything?" Remus asked.

Harry clearly saw worry in his eyes. He knew he had to confess.

"I didn't want him to. I wasn't ready," Harry cut off again as his voice cracked with emotion.

Remus nodded, understanding written on his face. He reached over and squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"Nobody blames you for needing time to heal. Its a miracle you're alive at all."

"I want to know," Harry resolved.

He'd have to face the music sometime; it might as well be now. Again, Remus' response was not reassuring. He looked worried, tired, and drawn. Almost as though he had just gone through a full moon, but Harry knew that couldn't be the case.

"Harry, you should rest. You're magically exhausted. There's no point in getting upset over something you have no control over," Remus said gently.

His words sent a panic through Harry. His heart accelerated and his stomach clenched. Remus knew how he worried. If Remus thought letting Harry worry about the possibilities was better than the truth, the truth must be horrific.

"I have to know," Harry ground out.

Remus closed his eyes as though in exhaustion and nodded.

"There is still a lot we don't know about You-Know-Who's attack. We haven't had much time to study it." Remus hesitated here, clearly uncomfortable going on.

"The spell he used was a sleeping spell. The entire world was affected by it." Harry nodded, unsurprised. It had certainly felt like he woke up the whole world when he had reached out with his magic.

"You woke up every individual that had even the tiniest shred of magic--squibs, people living as muggles that had no idea they had magic of any sort. We were not able to find a way to wake up the muggles."

Remus said this with such sadness, devastation, that it confused Harry. Then he wondered why Remus had spoken in the past tense--'We were not able...' It was almost as though they had given up.

"I'm sorry I don't understand," Harry began. "Inducing people to go to sleep? That hardly seems like the grand master scheme Voldemort was after."

Remus looked uncomfortable as though he were the unfortunate one assigned to the task of giving a particularly bad piece of news.

"They were put to sleep, not stasis," he said quietly. Harry shook his head and Remus' face crumpled in pain.

"Sleep, Harry, not stasis. Seventy-five percent of the muggle population has already died of dehydration."

Harry's ears rung. He must have misheard. He must be hallucinating.

"What?" he breathed.

"The muggles are dead," Remus repeated quietly with a painful shake of his head, as he though he too were trying to deny the reality of what he was saying.

"No! No! No! That can't be!" Harry shouted in denial.

He had to be sleeping--he must have fallen asleep without taking his potion--this was a nightmare. But Remus simply stared. His face was a picture of exhaustion, horror, and sympathy.

"All of them? Every last muggle?" Harry choked out.

"We will be able to save a few. We've gathered as many muggles as we can care for. We're treating them like a muggle hospital would treat coma patients," Remus answered in a weary voice.

Harry nodded numbly. No further explanation was needed--he was muggle raised.

"Billions. . ." Harry trailed off too emotional to continue.

"I shouldn't have told you. Pomfrey doesn't want you upset. You need to focus on healing--not solving problems out of your control," Remus said gently.

'Solving problems out of your control,' the phrase sound like something Severus would say and suddenly Harry desperately wished Severus was here with him. He remembered breaking down in front of him after the incident in Hogsmead. It had been humiliating--his loss of control. But Severus had been so comforting.

Harry didn't want to lose control in front of Remus. His breath was coming faster and faster and he wasn't sure how long he could keep it together. He knew Remus wouldn't judge him for his weakness, but he didn't want to further burden him. It seemed as though everybody left alive in the world had more than they could handle.

"I'd like to go to sleep now," Harry whispered.

Remus nodded and pulled out a vial of Dreamless Sleep. How Remus knew Harry took that potion, Harry wasn't sure. But he was grateful.

He pored the contents down his throat. As Harry fell asleep, he begged that this be a horrible nightmare, that when he woke up the world would be back to normal. In fact, he thought sleepily, he'd settle for not waking up at all. Let this be a personal hell just for me. If only it meant all the muggles were still alive. The faces of all the people in the world tried to swim before his eyes, but mercifully the potion kicked in and sleep took him.


End file.
